Going Wild
by A Piece for Some Peace
Summary: As a teenager, Max abandons his fantasies for pot and pessimism in order to enjoy acceptance. Forgetting his dreams, Max wastes his days in his dark room. His worried family drives him to the edge one night, and yet again Max runs off to the wild unknown.
1. Chapter 1

"Max? Max?" A knock rapped on his wooden door, but he gave no response. Though it may have been rude, Max could not be entirely blamed for ignoring his sister. At eighteen, Max was coming into his own. Unlike many of his fellow friends, he was going to graduate, even if it only meant skimming by with mostly C's and B's. His successes and failures were to be credited (or blamed) for his latest trend. Halfway through his high school sophomore year, he had taken up smoking pot.

"Max! Max! Wake up, it's dinner time." Called his sister Claire. Again, he chose not to respond. Currently, Max resided in a nest of dirtied clothes and school papers. Illustrations from previous hours of meditation lined his walls. From the closet adjacent to him toys and childhood mementoes peeped down him. Faded octopus and teddy bear faces frowned in a way of disapproval. As time wears, all children grow away from their tools that help them learn.

Finally, the door to Max's room burst open. Claire had forgone politeness to retrieve her brother. "Max it's time for Thanks-."

Halfway through her semi-lecture, Claire paused, smelling the fragrant smoke. Saying nothing, she looked to Max's illustrations as away to escape tears. She wanted to protect her brother, but she knew speaking to him would only push him away.

"Dinner's ready Max, please come down now." She said in a soft, ragged voice. Carefully, she backed out of the dark room and into the brightly lit hall, and closed the door gingerly. Max stayed where he lay, not wishing to move. He saw the disapproval in Claire's eyes, and he feared what she might say to mother. Not that mother would do anything, but Max did not like to discuss his affairs. Pot was just his way to think clearly and sort things out, his key to meditation. It was not a problem, nothing serious.

Through the smoke and the mind-numbing waves, Max found that he was able to avoid those pesky daydreams, and just lay still for a while. Ever since he was young, Max had stupid visions that kept him from being himself, from being normal. All of those fantasies he held, those other worlds, they stopped him from being in this world, and Max was fed up. Now he had many friends, people liked him, and most of all; he was not burdened by his dreams anymore.

So there he stayed, half-asleep in a protective cocoon of thoughts, clothes, and a grounded mysticism. Downstairs, Claire and his mother, Connie, sat around their dinky table, a petite banquet set up to celebrate being thankful. Off in the kitchen, Mark, Connie's husband, cut up the turkey. They were not so thankful this night. Claire choked back tears as her mother poured wine for each of them, even a little for Max if he would just come down.

"Do you know how long it has been since Max has written anything?" Asked Connie. Claire shook her head, recalling Max's excitement for storytelling.

"I'm sure he has written something." Offered Claire.

"No, I am sure he has, but he has not read anything to me." Connie said, feeling less than hungry as she scooped some mashed potatoes from her serving dish. Placing some turkey on everyone's plate, Mark took a seat.

"He's just going through a hard time." Mark suggested, not very close to Max. Instantly discrediting his words because of this, Claire turned to her mother.

"Is… Max okay?" She asked.

"Oh, he is fine I suppose. He is not sick, and he is doing okay in school, but he just is not the same." His mother said, frustrated.

"I mean… is he doing anything?" Asked Claire once more, hoping that her mother would catch what she was hinting at without having to spell it out.

"That." Answered Connie, finally catching on. "He reasoned to me it was nothing to be worried over, and I believe him. I only worry it is slowing him down."

Mark turned over his food, not wishing to be involved in this. Having smoked pot as a teen himself, he saw it as just something done occasionally with friends at parties. According to Mark, it was nothing to worry over.

"What do you mean? Are his grades slipping?" Claire asked, growing concerned.

"No, no, not at all, Max is just… not as in the clouds as much as he used to be." Explained Connie, seeing a look of confusion spread over her daughter's face, she thought to clarify, but was interrupted by Mark.

"It is for the best. Think about it, Max does not get in trouble like he used to. That boy has always needed to be brought back to Earth." He said with an unintentional insensitivity. A flame rose in Connie and Claire regardless, eager to defend their boy. Connie calmed down before she said something too rash.

"That may be, but he just is not the boy filled with wishes and questions anymore." Retorted Connie, sipping her wine. It was the end of the discussion. Small talk was made over weather and Claire's time off at college. The room felt so empty for a place so tight. Perhaps it was that neither Claire nor Connie could not help but imagine the simple wooden stools being jumped on by Max. Even though he was a teenager, they still expected half of him to run down in his wolf suit and knock things around while exploring and adventuring.

A stomping came from the stairs. The two women wanted more than anything to see Max declaring he was king again, and wished sending Max to his room could still be considered a punishment.

"Max, you're here." Greeted Connie warmly. Lines like that of tree rings mapped out in red waves the contours of where his face had met creases. Like a billowing fire, his hair stuck almost straight up in patches from the tossing and turning he had done. Through bloodshot eyes he looked at the forlorn faces at the table and felt a little resentment.

"Hey." He greeted, not wishing to say too much. Right now, he cursed his hunger. Taking a seat at the table, the equilibrium brought on by false happiness was lost, and silence reigned. The wall clock billowed loudly with its ticks, causing a great sense of discomfort and agitation.

"So how has school been?" Asked Claire, using a bit of enthusiasm she hoped would bolster the overall spirit of the room. The fork of Max dug into his porcelain plate, causing an unsightly screeching. The family dog rose and left the room, even the promise of food was outweighed by the din of the silverware. Staring down at his food, Max's mind swirled. School, school, how _had _school been?

"Good." Max offered, unwilling to say much else. His lack of a meaningful response had the desired effect of stumping Claire, if only for a little while. The broken family returned to taking small bites of food.

"Have you written anything lately?" Claire asked, pressing on. Max slowed his eating slightly. This was not a matter he was entirely proud of.

"No, no I haven't." He answered, feeling a bit defeated. At this point, no one was eating. Eating utensils stayed midair, swirling to fake purpose.

"What about school?" Connie asked, joining in the conversation.

"There haven't been any creative writing prompts since I was in the fourth grade." Scoffed Max. His bitter words only served to show that he had no solid excuse.

"Max, we're worried about you. Is there anything wrong?" Asked his mother. Taking it as a criticism, Max laid down his fork with enough force to cause a stir.

"What is this about? I am fine." He asserted quite angrily.

"No you are not." Mark broke in. "Your mother is very worried about you."

Mark played a dangerous game, Max hardly saw him as a father, and his words only served to push Max closer to the edge.

"Ugh, shut up Mark. Like I said, I am okay. You don't understand." Max shouted in a mixed tone. Slightly on the offensive and partially on the defensive, Max felt so outnumbered by the inquiring stares of his family.

"From what I have seen, you aren't yourself at all." Claire said, trying to sound reasonable, but coming off accusing.

"Ugh, fuck you!" Grinding his teeth, Max stood up. "Fuck all of this."

His chair slid behind him against the unruly oak floors and knocked over, hitting the wall. A couple pictures feel from where they hung, causing the frames to break and glass to crack in a startling volume. The slam of the chair frightened the dog enough for him to bark in warning. Taken aback, the small family stared on in a fearful stupor, unaware of Max's next move. Seeing the looks marring his favorite people, Max felt a wave of self-loathing and pity all at once. Backing away, he ran out the door for the second time in his life.

Gathering her wits, Connie rose.

"Max!" She yelled. "Max! Max, come back!"

Exiting the home, Max had slammed the door a couple inches from his mother's face. Sinking to the ground, his mother sobbed. All over again, she had lost her boy. Claire dialed the cops as Mark came out to comfort his wife in the living room. Nothing could ease the nerves they felt, each fearing Max would never return to them.

Panting, Max ran further and further away from the prison he had once called home. His lungs begged for mercy, but Max had none to show. Before he would stop Max wanted to be far away from his cage. Rounding fences and yards, Max found shelter in a familiar wooded area. No one would find him here. No one would look for all he knew. It was such a cold night, they would expect him back soon enough, not that he was coming. Feeling spiteful, Max ventured further into the woods.


	2. Chapter 2

In a wooded area, Max grabbed his lengthy hair in frustration. He screamed knowing no one would hear him. Anything within arm reach was annihilated or tossed into the brush. The strenuous activity made all of his grievances seem to explode and collide. Nothing mattered, all Max had to do was destroy and his mind could relax for once tonight. At the same time, he was not relaxed in the least. He needed to move around. Sitting here would only make his brain explode.

As a way to let his tiring muscles rest and run away from his creeping thoughts, Max started to push forward in the woods. Before him stray branches would brush roughly across his face, leaving tiny scratches and causing his eyes to water.

"Fuck…" He hissed, but recoiled at the sound of his voice. Max felt slightly stupid and self aware by talking to himself. Coming back into a conscious thought process, Max found he was at a familiar body of water.

In the cloudy night it did not shimmer as brightly as it had previously in his last visit. Rocking back and fourth at the banks was his old boat, with some wear and tear of course, but nearly the same. His name was still scratched on the side crudely, and the mast carried a damaged sail. Knowing what to do, Max climbed aboard, and set sail.

Very smoothly he slid across the water at first, but as he went along he started hitting some resistance. Max held tightly to the rope at the mast and peered over the shoddy portside to see what was fighting him in the water. Astonishingly enough, he revealed there to be guitars and drums floating past. Hitting his ship, drums would let out loud beats and guitars would wail. It was like going through a rock ballad. Overhead, storm clouds assembled in their traditional patterns, and Max braced himself for what he knew to be ahead.

Wind rushed, blowing Max's hair back. Looking toward the oncoming weather, Max squinted as the boat hopped along the increasingly high waves. The rocking of the boat and the intensity of the waves sent the musical instruments at a new grotesque type of wail with each smash of wood and musical tool. Soaring upon one wave, the boat rode alongside its curls like a surfboard at a ninety-degree angle.

"I'm going to die." He thought frantically. "God damn it… I am really going to die."

Impressively the boat rode up the wave as Max clung gallantly for life onto the mast. Having made it over one wave, hit boat only met another, and another after that. It was like some horrific rollercoaster. Under different circumstances, this would be something Max would greatly enjoy. With each new crest Max had to bat away some guitar, triangle, or violin like a fish flopping out of water.

"Ugh..." Grunted Max. He moved to the wheel of the boat in order to gain some control. If he remembered correctly, this whole thing would be ending soon. Fate had something else in store for him however, as only more waves came to him as if only out of spite. At one point on this ever increasingly terrifying travel the boat fell beneath the crest of a wave and was overtaken. Max's outcry was smothered by an onslaught of seawater.

Choking on the waves, Max slipped on the wet deck and hit his head on a bench. The cool air and violent storm were not enough to keep him awake at this point. It seemed the boat would have to take control now. The period of his sleep was just as tumultuous and trivial as his waking Odyssey, for his dreams only carried him to darkness and worries. Instead of relieving him of the fearsome storm of the outside world, he was stuck in the entrapments of his pessimistic mind. In his mind he was home again, unable to find his drugs, unable to find his family, and all that he could find was his pathetic wolf suit, worn from countless trials. Never before had he been so happy to wake.

Upon his waking, he was much displeased to find no relief from the storm.

The waves were still rocketing him to terrifying highs and lows. At this point, a milky fog had set around him, so not only was he being turned around and around on this sickening sea, he was completely blind to where the storm was taking him. Max wondered if his dreams were so awful after all in comparison to this hell he found himself in. This trip had become some kind of purgatory, and here Max was, in the middle of nowhere.

How was he to know if a day had passed or not? The sun and moon could not pierce the thick clouds ensnaring Max. With no outlet for his mind to wander, no book, no computer, no TV, no pot, Max was stuck within the confines of his mind, a place he rarely wished to explore. Guilt and anger among other emotions he had suppressed for so long had wormed their way to the surface in the nothingness. Why did everyone ask so much of him? It was unfair, he was only a kid, and nobody even bothered Mark. Max started to weep, and eventually started to sob, no longer wishing to deal with these feelings.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" He yelled, slamming his fist against the mast. Unfortunately for Max, he had drastically underestimated his strength and overestimated that of the boat. Under the force of his fist, the mast cracked and fell, and the sail no longer caught wind. Beneath the boat Max heard the scraping of instruments. A new fear overtook him, if the boat could not take his beatings, how would it do for the remainder of the storm?

He could not run about in fear, but was trapped at his seat once again with his thoughts. Frantically, Max gathered up the rope from the mast and sail and attempted to tie the ends of wood together, only to see them fall to the floor of the vessel all over again. Sliding down beside it, Max clutched his head in absolute dread. He knew it, and he had predicted the future. Max knew it was his fate to die out here in the nothingness.

Salty tears mixed in with the wet hull of the boat. Max curled into a ball and listened to the instruments rap along the bottom of the vessel, their noises lulling him to sleep. Unlike before however, Max did not allow such an escape to envelop him. Quietly like a mouse he remained awake, listening to the crash of waves and soaring beats. For hours, days, and weeks this must have gone on until finally after an eternity, there was a scrape of the boat hitting the rocky shore. As he had done so eagerly before, Max hopped out of the small vessel into the water, and pulled his boat to safety.

Carefully Max tied his boat down out of the way of the surf, and began a trek along the shore. Treasured memories and terrifying memories alike came to him. He was at his island, where he once reigned, the Island of the Wild Things.

Here Max had ruled, only to fall disgracefully out of power. Would they allow him to rule again? It was night, just like his first day of arrival. Similar to home, the stars were shielded by dull mauve clouds, but he could see the eerie glow of the moon struggling through. Behind him Max saw the fog retreat out to foreign seas.

"Hello?" Bellowed Max, his voice shot through the dark, up the rock walls and down the beach. No reply. Nine years had a lot of give, and although he remembered things quite vividly, Max had some trouble recalling where he had made a home with his Wild Things. So, in the only way he knew how, Max set out down the beach. Some things struck him as familiar, but that was probably only due to the fact that this place had so few recognizably different features. One rock looked like another, one hill had no other traits than the next. Reaching the crest of a sizable hill, Max prepared to call out again, but was interrupted by the sight that lay before him.

"Hel-" He began, but stopped, seeing a singed earth bellow him. His mouth lay agape as he looked upon once golden knee high grass singed brown and black with a few sparing embers glowing in the night. Fearful for his wild friends, Max ran down the hill, not sure what he would find. His mad dash was short lived however, as the hill's incline had run out and Max was anything but an athlete. At a walking pace he was able to truly take in the carnage. The beauty of the land had been lost to perverse fires, in all likelihood started by Carol.

Max frowned, wondering what had sent Carol over the edge on this occasion. Beneath his feet, Max kicked some dirt around to pat down the coals. Oddly enough, some of the embers were glowing green and blue. It was such a strange sight, and something he had yet to see from Carol, and suddenly had made Max quite fearful. Who could have done this to his friends, to their home?

Max took up running once more, and despite the heavy protest of his lungs kept running.

"Hello?" Max called out, more frantically this time, his voice almost catching in his throat. He called again and again, building volume. "Hello? Hello?"

He kept pace, and kept calling, eventually reaching something of a cliff. Unable to slow himself, Max felt himself creeping over the edge falling from the plateau to his doom on the rocks bellow. The loosely compacted dirt at the edge gave way to his heels speeding up his descent. A terrified scream found its way out Max's throat, just as a warm hand took hold of his ankle. Max fell forward, head hanging to look down at the rocky floor bellow. His whole body rocking back and forth, Max saw the completed fortress he had built so long ago, up in a purple blaze.

"Help!" He stuttered out, swinging his arms.

"Shh…" Was the response, quieting Max. Once completely quiet, the massive creature pulled Max entirely up into the safety of its arms. Wrapped in warmth, Max looked up.

"K.W.?" He asked, confused. K.W. looked lovingly upon him, with a tinge of sadness as well.

"Oh Max." She said. "Is that you? It has been so long. We really need you here now."

"What has happened?" Asked Max, feeling like a little boy all over again with his childhood companion and protector here with him.

"So many things Max. Everything has changed. It is so good to have you back." K.W. tightly held Max to her chest in another embrace, squeezing him close to tears. Abruptly she stopped, growing grave. She looked down at Max in her arms and said quite seriously, "Max, we can't stay here long, we're not safe you know."

Max drew in a tight breath. A creeping fear took over him as to what had become of his favorite place.


	3. Chapter 3

K.W. had taken Max, still small in comparison, in her arms.

"You need to be quiet, it isn't safe here." She whispered with all sincerity. The gravity of her words silenced Max. Feeling the cold of the night's air on his wet frame, Max held tightly to K.W.' s warm and soft body. His mind spun, wondering what had happened to the land of his fantasies. Through the burnt grass plains they went, to a charred forest. It was a place Max recalled to once be lush, though mostly leafless in the fall of his mind. The further along K.W. took Max the less he saw smoldering embers. Finally, at a certain point, K.W. lowered Max to the ground, littered with dead leaves and twigs.

"See that tree?" She asked Max, pointing to a medium sized pine tree. He nodded. "Go to the base, there is a hole we can slide down, to our home."

Max examined K.W.' s features briefly, and then did as instructed. Pushing aside some of the decay, Max found the entrance K.W had spoken of. Despite his misgivings, Max did as was asked of him, and plummeted forward into a dark tunnel that was much deeper than anticipated.

"Whoa!" He cried, falling into the black expanse. Behind him Max heard K.W. jump into the entrance with him, her fur and hide catching on roots poking out in the dark. With her passing sounds of loose dirt rolling could be heard along with the snapping of pesky branches. Falling and falling, it seemed like an eternity of it, and Max found himself getting queasy from either the constant motion or the lack of light he so longed for, he could not quite tell. Before he could ask, K.W. gave a small, reserved howl of sorts.

"We're here Max." She said, her voice hushed. Together the paired fell into an open space, lit by a sizable fire in one corner in a makeshift fireplace. The room was warm, like a bed after being slept in all night. In the center of the shelter support beams from tree trunks supported the compacted dirt ceiling. Around the room were special rocks and objects assembled by K.W. or some other wild thing, their meanings secret to all but their owners. Richard the raccoon scuttled over Max's feet and up an adjacent tunnel, off to important matters.

By the fire, there were some logs arranged for seating, each varying in size for their respective wild thing, but all large nonetheless. On two of the logs sat Alexander, his eyes entranced by the flame, and Bernard the bull, who was looking towards Max and K.W. silently. Max felt nervous in such a small space, especially under the scrutinizing gaze of Bernard. Horrifying still, Max noticed Alexander was missing an arm and Bernard had no eyes. Much effort was required in order for Max not to stare.

"Hi." Max greeted pathetically, waving his arm only to feel dorkier. Bernard, just as Max had remembered, remained characteristically silent. Sitting on his log, Alexander looked over to Max with a twinge of disdain, and looked back to the fire. After a short pause and a disgruntled cough from K.W., Alexander finally gave a brief hello.

"Hey… King…" He muttered, with an emphasis on king for an effect of sarcasm. K.W., next to Max, frowned. Regardless of all Max had gone through over the years to fit in and feel welcomed, Max had yet to feel so exposed as he did then. Alexander's general nihility and apathy unsettled Max. This was the perfect opportunity for Alexander to get his word he always craved in, and yet he was silent. K.W. put her paws on her hips and let out a low growl.

"That is way rude Alexander." She scolded, lowering her gaze. Alexander finally gave his full attention to K.W. Bernard looked on, or at least had his head lifted in their direction his emotions virtually illegible upon his gruff face. Max tugged on K.W.' s arm, very much like a little kid.

"It's fine. It's perfectly fine." He muttered lowly, feeling the judging eyes of Alexander upon him. Never before had Alexander carried this much power over Max, and a part of him was definitely enjoying such a change. Alexander turned to the fire dramatically dark, and then in an exaggerated motion turned back quickly, leveling a hoof Max's direction.

"It's his fault you know." Alexander accused, directing his words at K.W., who was glowering down at him in return. She stepped closer.

"You know that's not true, this is all of our fault really." Explained K.W. Alexander rolled his eyes, but delighted in seeing Max look on confusedly between them.

"Uh… what am I responsible for exactly?" Asked Max, getting a bit defensive. K.W. angled herself towards him while Alexander gave a short and humorless laugh. This only served to provoke K.W. and irritate Max.

"Well?" Asked Max, swinging his hands.

"Tell him K.W., tell him. Tell him why all of these fires even started in the first place. Tell him why the sun is gone and everything is turning to dust." Instructed Alexander with fury; replacing the joy he had ultimately felt. All of the pent up emotions he'd felt these years was finally finding a release, at Max's expense. Feeling affronted, Max put up the disguise of being angry, really feeling rather worried. K.W. gave a bit of a sigh and looked to Max.

"I think we should sit down." She said, worrying Max. K.W. took a seat by Bernard, and patted the space beside her, motioning for Max to come closer. All the while Alexander watched with a critical glare from his spot by the flame. Even Bernard waited eagerly for him to take a seat. In the back of his mind, Max wondered if there was time to get away, or at least something to take his mind off things, and return to the confines of his room. The thought of his enraged family yelling his ear off kept him in place, neither coming nor going.

"Sit Max." Instructed K.W. again. This time Max obeyed, and took up the space left beside K.W., who allowed him to nestle in at her side once more. In a very professional way, K.W. cleared her throat in preparation for a long story. Intercepting her long speech, Alexander interrupted with a bit of a laugh.

"Tell him about the fire!" He chuckled. K.W. shot Alexander a glare for what felt to be the fiftieth time in such a short period.

"Shut up." She ordered, kicking Alexander at the shin. Recoiling and letting out a shout, Alexander was silenced. Waiting for him to finish, K.W. was allowed to carry on.

"After you left, everything was like, so perfect, you know? Carol was so sweet, and Bob and Terry hung around for the longest time without any problems. We even finished your fort, though we never got robots or anything fancy." Hearing this, Max smiled. Anxiously Alexander waited for K.W. to carry on. "Things were great for awhile, but then Bob and Terry just went missing."

"Missing?" Asked Max. K.W. nodded.

"Yeah, just like, gone," She said, snapping her fingers on poof. "Just like that and they were gone. It totally destroyed me you know? My friends were just gone all of a sudden. It really sucked, and even though everyone helped me look, we could not find them. The only one not looking for them was Carol. It was like, well, it just had to be him. I knew he had done something. With my entire soul I knew Carol had done something."

"But why would Carol do that?" Asked Max, wishing the best for his friend and bewildered at the thought of Carol doing such a thing. K.W. looked sadly down at Max and shrugged her shoulders quite sadly.

"I don't know, I just feel he had something to do with their leaving. Maybe he did not hurt them physically and all, but who knows, maybe it was something he said. They're sensitive you know." K.W. gazed into the fire and sighed and looked back towards Max. "So all of this stuff is going on, I'm mad at Carol, he's mad at me, typical sort of thing, and then something new happens. Normally we just would make up and move on, but Carol never came back to me, never apologized or said anything at all."

Listening intently, Max wondered where Carol was now, and what any of this had to do with him. K.W. proceeded on with her story. "One day, out looking for Bob and Terry, I found something, something like, completely scary. It was your name Max; your name was burned in the woods on every tree I walked past. It was so freaky. The further I walked along the more of your name I saw, burned on tree after tree. All the leaves were singed off. It was totally weird. That's when I found Carol."

K.W. paused, looking at Max, gauging his reaction. Seeing he was listening intently with keen interest, she carried on. "Carol was bleeding all over, something cut into him. There is something evil going on Max, and it's destroying our home."

"What do you mean?" Asked Max.

"I am not sure how to describe it, but something is changing things around here. Like, taking friends over, making them do bad things, and then hurting them." K.W. said, rubbing her arm to comfort herself. "I don't know how this started, but I know it has to do with Carol and his anger. Max, we need your help, I know you can do something about this."

"I bet he could pretend he can." Muttered Alexander. K.W. promptly kicked him in the knee, silencing him effectively following a yelp. Shifting uncomfortably, Max avoided K.W.' s pleading eyes.

"I," he said, trailing off, looking for an appropriate way to decline, "do not think I can do anything. Sorry."

Shoulders slumping, K.W.' s eyes contorted into a dismayed shape. Her wide mouth fell into a hard-pressed frown. On the spot, Max felt like crap. Now, more than ever, he wanted to leave. Faced with disappointment from someone he had so looked up to was even less appealing than a shouted out lecture. Standing up, he brushed away the immense amount of mud on his jeans.

"I would help, but I have to go home. Sorry." He said, repeating his apologies.

"Let me guide you out." Offered K.W. Giving no time for a refusal, K.W. pushed away some of the wall, revealing a hidden passageway. "A shortcut to the beach."

Together they walked through the tunnel, Max feeling indignant with K.W. treating him like a child. As the burrowed exit widened and it became easier to see, K.W. offered Max her hand for support. A small part of Max wanted not only to take her large hand, but to also embrace her tightly. He was so afraid in actuality, or at least very uncomfortable with what had become of his world. A greater part of Max wished to come off as an adult; he wanted to be someone who was left alone. So, instead of taking her hand, he ignored her offer, playing it off as if he had not heard her. Following some time, hours it seemed, of walking the hidden path, Max and K.W. came upon a boulder. Seams of light filtered in through the cracks between the boulder and what was apparently the opening to the outside. Pushing the boulder lightly, the exit was opened with ease by K.W. Allowing Max to pass by; K.W. rolled the large stone back into place, concealing the opening.

"What happened?" Asked Max, staring with confusion at his once pristine boat. All that remained was the charred skeleton of his watercraft and ashes that whipped up with the breeze of the beach. K.W. walked up beside him, keeping with her typical steady pace. Sickened by the burnt wreckage, her eyes widened in abject horror.

"Max, that force, it knows you're here. You need to get out of here." K.W. urged.

"How? Where? My boat is destroyed." Replied Max, discovering that hiding his fear was becoming more challenging. K.W. shook her head, rolling her eyes to the hazy violet sky for answers. When none came, she looked back to him.

"We really need your help. You're the king, can't you just stay and try?" Pleaded K.W., bringing up the issue once more. Opening in closing his mouth, Max resembled a fish more than an arrogant teenager, fearful of the confines of his mind. Struggling with what to say, he felt so entirely stupid.

"I…" he started, pausing to think of something, anything to say, "I…"

Max would not finish his sentence however, because at that moment there was a resounding boom. Sand shot up into the air, splashing with a swishing noise into the ocean lapping on the shore. In the horizontal crater that had formed, a figure rose. Its fur, matted and torn, blew every which way in the soft gusts of air. Looking to its face, Max was so repulsed he could almost throw up. The face of the creature had tears running across it. Rotting flesh hung from gaping wounds, probably being the source of the malodor. In a moment of shock and terror, Max recognized his aggressor.

"Ira?" Asked Max, his knees quivering.


	4. Chapter 4

Ira, towering above Max, was far gone. This was no friendly beast in love.

"Ira?" asked Max again, his voice shaking. With a low growl, Ira raised a large fist. Cowering, Max shielded himself in vain with his arms, knowing that he would be crushed.

"Ira, stop!" ordered K.W. Ira slammed his fist to the earth with a gnashing of his teeth. Barely missing Max, Ira had destroyed the skeletal remains of Max's boat. Lowering his face to meet the face of Max, Ira's eyes bled tears.

"You can't leave Max." He said. "Not until you save my Judith."

K.W. came before Max, acting as a guard. Her arms spread wide; Max could barely see the defeated looking Ira. Sobs carried across Ira at this point, his entire figure shaking. With a wave of his mighty claw, Ira tossed K.W. aside. K.W. howled as she was sent digging into the sand, her arm absorbing the impact with a sickening sound. The path now, cleared, Ira approached Max.

"You can't just leave." He pleaded. "You're the king, you can do something."

"What can I do? I'm just some kid. I don't have powers or anything like that." Max argued, feeling for his wild former friend. Knowing he was no match for someone of Ira's size, Max took calculated steps away from Ira. It was the end; Max prepared for his demise and regretted his choice to return to his long forgotten hide out. Ira raised a great and ragged claw, wishing it would allow Max to see the light, but not realizing how it would surely do away with the former boy-king.

"Stop!" came a desperate cry. It was Alexander, with Bernard in tow. When Ira ignored him after a short pause, Alexander became frustrated, tired of the usual way of things. K.W., taking advantage of the quick distraction, took her place in front of Max once more, serving as a shield.

"Bernard, stop him." Bernard looked to Alexander silently, and then obeyed, running towards Ira with surprising speed for someone of his size. Having much more strength than Ira, Bernard made quick work of his deranged friend. Crashing to the ground, Ira let go of his aggressive stance. Seeing this, K.W. yielded and allowed Max a better view of Ira. The feeling was incredibly cold on the beach. The small patches of smoldering wood left from the boat did nothing to stifle the chilled air. No one said anything for a long while. The sky, cleared of its previous clouds, was a deep violet where stars wearily winked at them. Reflecting on the distant memories, it was K.W. who decided to speak.

"You're the king Max, you do have magic. Why else would you be here? There's something bigger than us at work here."

"Like what?" asked Max, still full of doubt. K.W. shook her head.

"You don't understand. It's bigger than us Max, bigger than you… king." She said.

Ira nodded. "She's right, only you can find Judith and save this world."

Their logic made very little sense to Max, someone who had for so long ached for grounded reality. Words such a destiny and fate had given way to things such as obligation and duty. Ruefully, Max looked to the husk of his once proud boat.

"If I help, will you make me a new boat?" He asked of the group. Looking to one another sheepishly, it was clear none of them possessed the skill.

"We could… try?" offered K.W.

"As if that would amount to anything." muttered Alexander, always a skeptic.

"That's not the spirit!" scolded K.W.

"Well it's true, we could make a raft I guess." conceded Alexander. Regardless of the suggestion, it was apparent the group held strong doubts about their abilities. Max, seeing the unraveling situation, knew he was the only one who could lead at this point, it was frustrating.

"Come on, Ira, you're the best tunnel maker I've seen, and you, K.W., you're so smart, I'm sure you can do something about this. What about you Bernard? You're so strong, you could help get supplies. As for you Alexander, well, I mean, you could help." Max could not believe himself, how was he expected to head the group when he had no idea what he was even doing. Regardless, his words seemed to rouse some confidence.

"Alright," Max began, "if we're going to fix this place, we'll need to do this as a group. Who are we missing?"

"Judith," said Ira, lifting his heavy head.

"Carol and Douglas," added Alexander.

"Bob and Terry too," concluded K.W. Max nodded. Each of his long lost friends looked to him with baited breath, awaiting orders.

"Who should we look for first? Do we know where anyone is?" asked Max, hoping to inspire some assistance. Ira was the first to make a suggestion.

"Judith, it has to be Judith."

"You don't even know where Judith is." Alexander said in misgiving.

"I do, she's in a place I can't get to. Only the king can."

"How?" asked Max, stepping in before another fight broke out. Ira smiled, knowing he was one step closer to retrieving Judith.


	5. Chapter 5

Max shivered, he was riding on Ira's back, going through a smoky forest with thin, wispy birch trees. Why he had come this far with them, Max was still in wonderment. The last thing he wanted was trouble, but when he saw how much he was relied upon by his friends, he felt a compelling obligation. So here he was, aiding his friends in the search for Judith when he could be with his human friends, kicking back and hanging out in a warm, if not a little messy, room. Playing video games and drinking what they could get their hands on was far less of a challenge than this. It was too much for him to dwell upon, so he kept those wishful thoughts away for the time being.

Because there was no path set in place, Ira had taken the lead, his massive body snapping branches and setting aside a way for the others to follow. It was impossible to see anything further than five feet ahead of them. Though Max was comforted knowing K.W., Alexander, and Bernard were keeping pace behind he and Ira, he could only make out their silhouettes vaguely. The further behind they were, the less crisp their figures seemed. Turning back around, Max swallowed, trying not to allow the fear overtake him.

"My feet hurt." Max heard Alexander mutter somewhere behind him.

"How much farther?" said Max asking Ira. Grumbling beneath him, Ira said something to the effect that he did not know. This seemed to please Alexander for the time being, who was quite wise in not upsetting Ira. The silence was ominous, neither bird nor beast made a noise on their journey. Wondering what kind of creature could overpower someone as powerful as Judith, Max was full of questions. At that moment, Max deeply wished he was back at home, in the arms of his mother and the care of his sister. Hell, it didn't even matter if Mark was there too. He knew that it was not time for him to leave though, for he was king, and his friends needed him. From behind him, Max heard Alexander cry out, then Bernard, then K.W., and finally Ira, who tumbled forward after having K.W. collide into him.

"Sorry." mumbled Bernard.

"What was that?" called K.W. in disgust. There was a frantic feeling amongst the group. Their vision inhibited, panic set in with the unknown.

"Someone tripped me!" cried Alexander, who had been the first to fall. A new fear set in.

"What?" asked Ira.

"I was tripped I swear! Something grabbed my legs!" Alexander cried. The group huddled closer, their eyes set intensely on the ground, looking for the hands or traps of the enemy.

"I don't see anything." Max said with finality. "We shouldn't stay here too long though."

"What do you think it is?" asked Alexander, his voice fraught with concern. Alexander cried out, but no one came to his aid, seeing that Bernard, strong and silent, had lifted him from the forest floor.

"You'll be safer up there." Said K.W. "Alright, you heard the king, let's move forward."

And so forward they pressed, each with heightened awareness of the surrounding area. Ira and Max still carried the lead, Ira knowing where Judith was being held. Either love or some other force allowed Ira the sense to find his wife in the gloomy area with no stars or moon. Behind them was K.W., and following her were Bernard and Alexander.

"I found her a while ago king," Ira said, his voice low, "Judith was sick, and I couldn't help her. They had her, and I couldn't do anything."

The pain in Ira's voice was evident, and so lost in his sorrow, he let out a howl. Echoing through the forest, it spun around them, growing more rueful and forlorn with each spin. Though the mood of their trip had hardly proved jovial, the group suddenly felt incredibly crestfallen. Ira's heartbreak was felt by each member of the group, and pausing, they were silent with sympathy, no one in the group ever having felt the kind of love Ira shared with Judith. In the distance, another howl returned. This was not Ira's howl coming forth, but another's.

"Judith?" called Ira. The howl rose again. It was hard to pick up on a direction in the confusing woods through the haze. Again, a pained howl rose from the woods, heartbreak filled the wail of the caller. It is the type of baying one might wish to do when overcome with grief, but oftentimes feels too foolish to do so.

"There's no mistaking it," Ira said over his shoulder, "it's Judith."

"How can you be sure that it's Judith calling? It's just howling." asked Max, who would never admit that the howls sent shivers down his spine. His mind reeled at the idea of pursuing such unearthly sounds, and yet his heart was drawn to the far off pleas.

"That's the power of love." Answered K.W. Wise and understanding, her word was taken as law. Behind her from Bernard's back, Max could see Alexander shaking his head.

"Love is crazy." Alexander muttered. As usual, Alexander's dismissive comments went unnoticed, much to his dismay. Though much had changed on their island, certain things would always remain the same. When another howl pierced through the woods, Ira returned it with a howl of his own.

"Judith!" called Ira into the winding forest. Another howl came, even more distressed, but its volume diminishing rapidly. "King, we must find her."

"Call to her again," urged Max, "I think she heard you."

Letting out a piercing howling that rocked through Max's ears, Ira looked from side to side in anticipation. No one dared speak fearing that they might miss her cry back. When Ira's howl was returned, he bounded off in its general direction, paying no heed to those following him or what lay in front of him. Those who were left behind tried to keep pace in vain and were forced to following the path he had laid out for them with a hastened speed.

"Judith!" cried Ira, bounding through the twisty vines of the birch trees. Under his weight they snapped like twigs, and with every wailed reply from Judith his strength grew. Max did everything in his power to cling to Ira's back and watch the mysterious and expanding forest ahead. The further along they went, the thicker the fog became. Soon, all that was left to remind Max that his friends were still in tow were their shouts calling after them.

"Ira, we should wait for them." Pleaded Max, feeling sick from the speed at which they were travelling. Beneath him, Ira gave a dismissive grunt. All Max could do was hold tight to Ira, and pray that Judith would be before them soon. Eventually, Ira and Max had reached a point where one could only see about a foot ahead of them. Begrudgingly Ira had to slow down. His steps calculated, Ira and Max remained silent, their ears in tune for Judith's cries. None came.

"She's here." Ira whispered over his shoulder.

"How do you know?" asked Max. Ira lifted Max from his shoulders, but kept Max's hand in his, which was so petit in comparison to his large claws.

"Her scent, it's here, it's faint, but it's here and it's everywhere." Ira told him, his gaze shifting around, seeking Judith's location. Behind them, an out of breath band of friends finally caught up, too tired to chastise. The fog, thick and winding, was overpowering and all that anyone could see. Max felt something creep around his leg. Crying out, his call was interrupted when the force attempted to pull him to the earth. Ira, feeling the pull, lifted Max up once more.

"What was that?" demanded K.W. anxiously, examining the silhouetted form of Max.

"Something grabbed me!" Max replied.

"I told you I wasn't lying." Muttered Alexander from the safety of Bernard's back.

"No one doubted you." assured K.W. The fog they had been enveloped in for what seemed like an eternity started to withdraw. Fear, which had been overwhelming Max for so long on this journey, was absent at this moment. Instead, Max felt empowered, excited even. Warping and packing together, the thick fog formed a cloudy monster. Where there was once fog was now a dark forest, and it was revealed that the group had found a clearing.

"It's Judith!" declared Ira. Indeed, in the center of the foggy creature was Judith, wrapped in billowing, evil fog.

"What shall we do?" asked Alexander, still atop Bernard. Max knew it was he who was being called upon. The massive fog creature growled in front of them, readying for battle. Drawing in a breath, Max charged forward, dropping Ira's claw.

"Attack!" he cried. Behind him his friends rushed to his side, growling and gnashing their teeth in a terrifying manner. Max was never more proud or happy to have them on his side. Meeting the fog beast, the group was careful to avoid hitting Judith at its center. To their horror, they found their blows went straight through the creature. Ira let out a snarl more vicious than one could expect coming from someone as mild mannered as he.

"King, what's happening?" Ira asked. Persisting with blows to the beast in vain, Max was stuck for ideas. It was then the fog creature's turn to attack. Raising its great arm, it struck the group and sent them back with a gust of wind. Falling back, Max saw his friends break the birch trees with ease, even Alexander knocking down several before he could regain control. Max on the other hand felt dizzy upon hitting one, his focus going in and out. It was clear they needed a plan. Ira rushed forward.

"Grab Judith!" called Max.

"Of course." replied Ira. Reaching for his love, Ira found the fog creature's core was pulling her back, fighting for control. An idea struck Max.

"Blow it away!" said Max in realization. The group, aside from Ira who was still working to free Judith, looked to him with confusion. Without further explanation, Max ran forward and started to flap his hands at the creature to no avail. It was Alexander, the typical skeptic, who was first to join. This seemed to have some effect, as the creature started to dispel around its arm. Too absorbed in its fight with Ira, the beast did not fight back. K.W. and Bernard rushed to their aid, Bernard's strength especially working well. While the beast found itself broken up, Ira was able to free Judith with greater ease. He clung to her tightly, silently weeping from joy. When they had successfully dispelled the creature, Max and his friends joined Judith and Ira. In exhaustion, they plopped down ready for sleep. The fog had gone, and now one could see the night's sky that was coated in stars and seemed so warm but distant.

"Well that's that." Said Max with a yawn. For the remainder of the night they rested in a warm pile. For the first time in a great while Max felt that he could rest safely with his friends. In their arms, he was able to forget momentarily the challenges that lay in wait, and simply dream under the glowing stars.


	6. Chapter 6

The light was soft rising above the isle of the wild things. Sitting in the long grass, Max watched over his slumbering friends in contemplation. It was sunrise, bed time for those on the wild side. They were in a grassy plain surrounded by low hills and jagged cliffs just outside of the forest they had escaped. Things were strange here, stranger than ever before. Max paced about, reminiscent of his princely days as royalty on this island. Friends had gone missing, and wounds and scars covered the ones he had found since then. Noticeably though, the fur coats of his friends had become smoother and softer, and their tense bodies seemed to ease. Something was happening here, and it was far bigger than any temper tantrum or loss of a king. Max let out a low growl, frustrated with overwhelming thoughts.

"Why me?" he thought selfishly.

As if on cue, K.W. stirred. Her massive brows furrowed in puzzlement, which caused Max to feel remorseful leading him to embarrassment and eventually to thoughts of his mother and sister. Smoothing his hair back, Max prepared to walk away when K.W. finally spoke.

"Max, why are you up? It's late man." She said, shielding her eyes from the increasingly present sun.

"I'm okay," he said in a non-answer.

K.W. frowned, but said nothing. Max always had trouble escaping that K.W. saw to his core and through his excuses. Somehow he knew that she understood his thoughts, but nonetheless she allowed him his peace.

"I'm sorry. I'll go to sleep soon, I just need to, I don't know, think for a minute."

Nodding, K.W. returned to her seemingly calm sleep, and Max felt envy at her ability to sleep so easily. He said nothing of his insomnia that kept him awake at odd hours and sent him to bed for brief moments of relief. At first he had taken cold medicine from his mother's cabinet to do what his body could not, but the task had started to feel dirty once his mother had noticed the missing pills. Mark had suspected him, but his mother, idealistic to a fault, came to his defense and washed Max with overwhelming guilt. Now he rode out the storm of the drowsiness that would never allow sleep. These thoughts, the troubling thoughts, were the ones that plagued him endlessly and kept him awake. Deciding it was more relaxing to think of the task at hand, Max wondered what was next for him and his friends.

"K.W., Ira, Judith, Alexander, Bernard, Carol…" he whispered, counting off his friends on his fingers.

Supposedly, K.W., Bernard, and Alexander knew where Carol was, so that left one accounted for. Then there was Bob and Terry, who had gone missing awhile back, Max guessed K.W. would want to seek them out next. There was one missing though, and pausing, it took only an instant for the memories of the peacekeeper to return. Yes, it was Douglas, fun-loving and masterfully calm; his missing presence had gone unnoticed by Max until now. If possible, Max wanted to find him next, knowing that Douglas could be key in suppressing Carol's temper. A plan set, Max drew closer to his friends. Resting at Bernard's side, Max still felt no sleep coming. He was caught off guard when Bernard's great arm drew him in closer in a tight but cozy hug. Alexander too was near and his breaths rose soothing in steady. After a while Max's attempts at sleep were less forced, and he fell into a shallow sleep.

When Max woke up, it was not on his own accord, but the violent shaking of his shoulder. His eyes opened rapidly in panic, fearing the worst. A vast shadow swept over him and the one shaking him. Dead center in the sky was the sun, which meant it was noon, too early for wild things to wake in normal circumstance.

"Get up king!" urged Judith, who had been the one shaking them.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"They've found us. Oh, I should have known this would happen! Nothing ever goes right; I don't know why I was so stupid to come with you. I'm really foolish sometimes." answered Judith, whose response had suddenly taken shape into a slightly self-effacing rant.

Looking around, Max spotted K.W. wielding a boulder. Beside her Ira flung a log towards a nearby cliff. It was then that Max realized that they too were being fired upon. Flaming rocks were being hurled their way. He watched as Alexander narrowly dodged a particularly large in size flame engrossed rock.

"Watch it!" he called up to the cliffs.

Beside Alexander Bernard held a massive rock of his own, seeking a target. Upon the hills were catapults, operating on their own somehow. Max turned to Judith who had stayed by his side, deflecting any fire-rocks that came their way. Missing a rock, it barely made it past Max without colliding into him.

"Shit." He cursed, seeing his singed shirt.

"Oh king! This is why I'm no good at these things, but then again, that was your fault you know. You can't always rely on your subjects; you should jump in front of me dramatically and save me. That is what a good king would do any-."

"There's no time for this Judith, we need to get out of here." said Max.

"Right, you tell us how and we'll make it happen." She said.

Looking about, Max felt helpless and did not know what to do. They were on low ground, their invisible enemy having the advantage. From what Max had seen in war movies, this called for two options, either retreat for safety, which meant returning to the woods, or rushing up the hill at the ones flinging the fiery rocks, which could be dangerous. It was clear either way was perilous. Having gone through the forest before, Max did not feel particularly up to traversing through again.

"K.W.! Bernard! Alexander! Ira!" he shouted, getting their attention along with Judith's.

Looking to him eagerly, they awaited for him to unveil his plan. Instead, Max let out a howl to be much applauded by any amongst the wild things and charged up the things. Behind him Judith let out a yowl, following him with claws and sharp teeth bared. Ira followed his lover with a holler, his feet pounding at the ground. K.W., Bernard, and Alexander wasted no time of their own following Max up the hill with their wails rocking the surrounding trees. The rocks from the hills subsided until they were no more. By the time they had all reached the crest of the hill, the enemy was gone. Max could not suppress his excitement, and with a yell he jumped in the air.

"Yeah!" he cried.

His friends joined him in celebration at their small victory. Not once did Max think it stupid to show such emotion, for right then it was a show of honest exhilaration. Ira picked him up and swung him once around causing Max to laugh.

"We did it!" said Judith. "I didn't think we could, but we did, you're amazing king!"

"He's not a king." Muttered Alexander, knowing whatever volume his protests were, they would fall on deaf ears regardless.

"What now king?" asked Judith.

"He's not a king." muttered Alexander again.

At first Max was silent, his attention on the ground where the once stood moments ago. Debris left over from their attackers left scorch marks in their wake on the earth. In the center of the flames Max noticed that the fires were not carried by rocks, but by heads, gigantic teddy bear heads. Their beaded eyes reflect the sparse blazes almost like tears ready to fall, and Max could not help but feel a little bit disturbed.

"Strange." He murmured.

"King?" called K.W.

"He's not a king." muttered Alexander once more.

"Yes?" asked Max. "What's next then? Well, I've been thinking, where's Douglas?"

The expressions of his friends became very somber. Even Bernard's stoic face bared a hint of sorrow and guilt. So they did know where Douglas had gone to. This would make things easier, Max supposed, and would mean that Douglas would be their next friend to find.

"He went," K.W. thought of what to say, "He was the first to disappear after Carol became what he is now."

"He wanted to see what was causing things to turn to dust." added Alexander, always the blunt one.

"He wouldn't let us go with him because he thought it might be dangerous, but he never returned. Before anyone could go after him, Bob and Terry went missing too, and then the fires started. It was a complete mess, you know?" explained K.W.

"Do you know how to get to him?"

"To the dust?" asked Ira. "Of course, it is growing every day."

"Where?" asked Max.

"The north, king." said Ira.

"He's not a king!" muttered Alexander.

This time, to Alexander's dismay, the entire group heard his comment. If wild things could blush, Alexander would be very red. He did not like this much attention, no matter how much he yearned for it, Alexander never felt quite prepared or ready for it. Twiddling his hands and moving his weight from one leg to the other, he grew very small with the added attention.

"How could you say that?" asked Judith, Max too taken aback to say anything.

"Well he's not king." said Alexander. "He's our friend."

Max's face was intangible; stepping forward he looked to Alexander who looked unsure of himself or how Max might react.

"Well, do you know how to reach the dust?" asked Max.

Alexander nodded, and Max broke into a great smile.

"Then lead the way. We'll follow and protect you, friend." said Max. "Now, let's find Douglas."


	7. Chapter 7

"Carol!" called Douglas, "Carol! Carol!"

The whipping winds that carried the sands were Douglas' only reply. The weeks that he had been searching for Carol had slipped into months, years even. As he walked he continued to call through the hazy red daylight.

"Carol!" he called.

His voice did not travel far over the winds, so he had to strain his lungs to reach an adequate distance. No reply came. Wiping the sand away that clung to his wooden arm, Douglas pressed on over the sandy plain. It was his responsibility to restore order, and the first priority was to find Carol and set things right. This task proved to be tricky with seemly infinite plains of sand that multiplied day by day in their eternity. So long as Carol was missing, Douglas was sure that they would continue to expand until their island was no more and the sun, strained by its efforts, would surrender and extinguish. How this journey had started and how it had spun so wildly out of control, were thoughts that prevailed constantly with Douglas.

"Carol!" he shouted once more.

Wind whipped the sand, blinding him. His heavy feet shoved into the loose sand, slowing his journey. Regardless, he pushed forward calling out, thinking only of the past and the future. The present was too grim and sandy. He thought of Bob and Terry, those damn foolish birds. They had much to say, but when it came to the feelings of others, their intuition was moot. There was a chance Douglas could come across them too, assuming they had not become sand. It was perfectly possible; Carol had not finished them off, thinking The End would find them.

"Carol!" Douglas called.

Before he could call once more he swore he heard the familiar howl of his lost companion. White noise made him unsure. The End was playing tricks. Douglas flopped down on the ground where he had stood, lying motionless. The wind coated him with sand only to clear it just as quickly. The endless wind and lack of food pulled at his core. All he had left was his final memory of Carol before The End had become so overwhelming. The disappearance of Bob and Terry, the suspicion that drove their once tightknit group apart, and one by one, the unraveling of his friend's. It was because The End, because Carol was so easily overcome with its feelings of darkness. With a roar Douglas lifted himself from the sand. He had to carry on; he had to find Carol, if not for Carol, for himself.


End file.
